From The Outside
by my calico
Summary: The rise and fall of Beck and Jade viewed from the outside.


When people ask, you always – at least jokingly – say you saw her first.

It isn't a joke, though. You notice her the first time she steps into Hollywood Arts – her dark hair, porcelain skin, piercing blue eyes; her whole being is magnetic to you. It isn't just the fact that she's got this unearthly sort of beauty; it's also her voice, her walk, her manner that draws you in. The trouble is she's got an aura around her that says you shouldn't come too close. It's a piece of unbidden advice: _if you don't want to get your heart broken, stay where you are. Leave me alone._

It's quiet, unlike the rest of her, which is brash, loud, passionate. She doesn't need to say a word for you to know, without a doubt, that you haven't got a prayer. Her wintry blue eyes say it all, and you find you're too scared to try.

So when _he_ comes along and even worse, comes _too close, _you think he must be either very brave or very stupid. He can see the warning signs. Everyone does. And yet there he is, right by her side, and you think, with some amount of gloating, that it won't last.

It _can't_ last.

He's everything you hate in a guy – popular, good-looking, talented – some girls will go so far as to call him _perfect. _But nobody's perfect, and you know that. You don't trust him in the slightest and you're only too pleased to see him fail. So you stick around for the show. You want her to take his arrogant little heart and toss it aside like you expect her to. You want her to yell at him, to call him an idiot for trying, to tell him that she doesn't want to have anything to do with him.

And she does, for a while. But he's stronger than you think (hope for?) and he rolls with the punches. Just when she deals him a blow you _think _is going to be the last straw, he's back again and he's forgiven her. The moment she takes a step forward, so does he. Less would have sent anyone else running. You don't want to admire him, but you do. What is his persistence if not admirable, after all?

You hate to admit it, but she changes before your eyes. Her smiles are wider, warmer, and they're… _genuine. _That's what surprises you the most, you think. Her aura dissipates and her walls are tumbling down. No one will say she's turning _soft _(for fear of their lives), but everyone knows it. She's changing. _He's _changing _her, _and, everyone agrees it was a change for the better. You wonder sometimes if it's his doing, or if anyone else brave enough to stay by her side could have done it, as well.

You only wonder because you regret your indecision.

That could have been _you._

She's at her most beautiful when she smiles, and without him around, you would never have known.

So you let it go for a while, because she seems so _happy _for the first time since you've known her, and your inner gentleman _wants _her to be happy. Even if it means watching her walk hand-in-hand with him in the hallways, kiss him in front of the lockers, and give him that look you can only _dream _about. It's torture, but you can take it. Still, you can't help but wonder how it would feel for it to be your arms wrapping around her waist, your lips brushing her skin… you'd be lying if you ever say you've never thought about it.

There's a bit of a sadist in you, and secretly, there's nothing more you want than to have them break up. He's a player, after all; it can't be _impossible. _It can't be unthinkable for him to shatter her heart in the way that leaves her vulnerable and fragile. It's not like he ever says no to the girls who come to him for a ride or a hello or even a _smile. _You hold out hoping because you have to admit: you envy him. You want him to break her heart so you can come in and pick up the pieces. You'll be the hero. _Her _hero.

You figure it's only a matter of time.

You can't say for sure, but you think something's wrong. The fights get louder and more frequent; there are days they don't even speak, and when they do, it isn't to set things straight or to open up about what they really feel. Such a conversation is long overdue, but you don't tell them. It's none of your business and you're still hanging on to the hope it never happens. They're a ticking time bomb.

When it finally goes off, you feel entitled to give him an "I told you so." Lord knows it's warranted. Didn't she warn him? Didn't she say "no" enough times to give him a way out? You don't revel in this, though. You may have called it first, but you don't feel like you've _won. _Your plan of being the knight in shining armor to a vulnerable, distraught damsel has all but fallen apart – broken though she is, she builds her walls up even higher than before. None of the pieces of her shattered by _him _are within reach – not yours, anyway. You know she's working on closing up her last weaknesses to the one who found them in the first place.

You see it now. It is him that she needs and no one else.

You wait. You watch as she picks herself back up and puts herself together; she's the strongest person you know and it makes you love her _more _(you, unlike _him, _never need to be asked to say it)_, _but you know that right now, your telling her that is the last thing she needs.

When you see her heart break all over again the day that he and another girl are wrapped up in each other in the hallway, you feel your own heart tighten in your chest. She's been doing such a good job not letting it show, but here is a little sliver of her soul peeking through. You don't quite know if you're sadder for her or angrier with him, but all you know is that you never want to see that look on her face again.

You may have seen her first, but you know that you can't fix what he broke or heal the scars he left behind.

**Author's Note: **Wasn't particularly thinking of anybody when I was writing this, although I suppose it could be read as a Jandre/Rade/Sade whatever. Your choice. :)

**Disclaimer: **As always, I own nothing.


End file.
